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Armand
Armand was a half-elf druid who had been investigating the blight in the forest. Calwen found him murdered and hung up in a tree. He leaves his animal companion, the she-wolf Daravon behind. His journal: Most of the entries are the same, tiring, poorly-worded odes to Lyila's beauty- or angsty passages lamenting that some "villain" named Galeth had stolen her attention from him. Then, finally, you stumble across his notes on his trip to Ravenmoor, the most recent entries 1 (dated eight days ago). "The people of Ravenmoor are strange, but friendly enough. Daravon had to stay on the other side of the river, I fear, but she can fend for herself in my absence. I think I may be the first elf- part-elf, at least- that they have ever seen. Mayor Kriegler is a friendly sort and has done his best to help me in my investigation. It seems that, when the first blighting occurred here so many years ago, the town priestess Iola Kriegler (of relation to the current mayor, I imagine), a cleric of Desna, underwent a vision quest deep into the Churlwood to seek aid for her dying village. There, she had some divine encounter with what they claim to have been the Dreamweaver herself, who shared the secrets of stopping the blight with her. Iola returned to her village alongside a pair of druids who shared this knowledge, and together they performed rituals that turned back the blighting and restored their village to health- though from the state of it I cannot say that old Iola was entirely successful in this effort. Still, if any life at all can be siphoned back into these blighted regions, there is hope that they might grow anew with care. This fills my heart with hope- I cannot wait to bring this news back to Lyila! She will reward me sweetly for certain. Perhaps enough to share herself with me and me alone. 2 (dated six days ago). My continued studies have yet to bring forth any details on the rituals Iola Kriegler used to turn back the blight. The novelty of my appearance seems to have worn thin on some of the town's citizens. I have seen more than a few unwelcoming stares over the last few days. This is nothing new- stares like those are what drove me to the druidic life in the first place. Still, for the forest and for Lyila, I will press on until I have uncovered the secret to stopping the corruption that is eating away at this land. 3 (dated five days ago). Had to wildshape into a falcon and fly across the Lampblack to get away. Don't know who they are or why they came for me in the middle of the night. I fear for my friend, the Mayor. If he has learned the same as I have, they will be after him, too. They wear masks like mosquitoes- no, like Stirges. Those abominations... I hear their wings buzzing everywhere I go now. The masked men carry sickles and scythes. They did not cross the river in pursuit of me- fear of the ferryman's "Wolf of the Water," no doubt, but still I must be careful. Daravon, my faithful companion, worries for me. She will patrol the wood around my home tonight while I rest and tend my wounds, and then, I will report my findings to Lyila. Tired now. Need sleep. Daravon will protect me.